


Tan Lines and Some Memories

by twoshipstiedup



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, And Jake Gyllenhaal, California, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Mush, Love at First Sight, M/M, Married Side Ziam, Summer Romance, always and forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 00:37:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20267152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoshipstiedup/pseuds/twoshipstiedup
Summary: It’s summer in California and blockbuster movie star Louis Tomlinson is looking forward to a break and spending his days lazing away at his beach house.Harry Styles is the indie movie darling he’d been avoiding ever since Louis saw his movie at Cannes and harbored an unreasonable grudge against him.A unicorn t-shirt finally brings them together in person.Summer romance ensues.





	Tan Lines and Some Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I heard the Bazzi song I.F.L.Y and it was the perfect soundtrack for a short little fluffy summer fic.  
Enjoy :)

Louis glanced down at his menu for the third time in less than ten minutes, scrubbing a hand down his face in defeat. There were probably two things at Nobu that Louis actually enjoyed eating, and one of them was a dessert, so he supposed he’d be having the steak. Again.

And yet every time he was there he still browsed through the menu a handful of times as if it would somehow transform into varying types of pizza instead of endless versions of pricey raw fish. Sure, he could go to any restaurant that he wanted, but his publicist insisted that if he was going to be spending his summer off in Malibu, then he would be papped at various celeb hot spots to keep himself in the tabloids, no arguments.

Since the days of attempted fake relationships were long behind him, he didn’t really have a reason to argue with anyone on his team anymore, so he sucked it up and avoided ever having to order sushi. Simple really.

Well, he says that now. When he had first come to Hollywood as a bright eyed teenager to pursue his dream of acting on the big screen, he quickly learnt that everything was not handed to you on a golden platter, people will ask you to do very strange and inappropriate things to get a role, and if you were out of the closet before your big break, you better expect to be pushed back into it.

Like many others before him, Louis struggled during his first few years, taking bit parts on television shows that barely saw the light of day and managing to swing a few jobs as an extra on some big budget films, all while bartending every single night at a popular gay bar in West Hollywood. That part he was hard pressed to complain about, he had been rolling in tips and cute boys who kept him warm at night, but all of that abruptly came to an end at the age of 22.

By some stroke of pure luck he landed a supporting role in a Martin Scorsese film, which went on to earn numerous Oscar nominations and awards, and after that his career finally took off. He was the toast of young Hollywood and it wasn’t long before his agents were setting him up on PR dates with his fellow young Hollywood actresses, which he had been told time and time again came with the territory if he wanted to be universally loved and lusted after.

However, Louis had never been a very good liar, that’s not the way his dear mother had brought him up, and after about a year of trying to make a couple of showmances happen, an opportunity finally arose. He had been filming an interview for one of the late night tv shows, where the (very annoying) host had dug up some slightly incriminating pictures from his WeHo days, so he went for it, shrugging with a cocky smile. “It was actually very lucrative for me, I made pretty good money and I love dick.”

And just like that he was out.

And surprisingly, his career remained intact, as the general public loved his blunt honestly and if they were on board, so were the major movie studios. He landed some pretty incredible parts that he wasn’t quite sure he would have gotten prior to his big revelation, but because Hollywood is all about the catch of the day and Louis was making waves in every global headline, he was _the_ hot commodity.

After the big gay bombshell, some amazing things happened for him - he was in a Marvel movie, he was nominated for an Oscar, he got to work with Leo, he got invited to the Met Ball twice, he did a season of American Horror Story which was something just for him to geek out about because he was massive fan of the show.

There were also some not so great things, like two breakups, one of them very messy and public, and one tiny breakdown that thankfully was not public because his agent and publicist actually liked him and their paychecks.

And now here he was eight years later, having just wrapped up filming the newest installment of James Bond in which he plays the villain, a role his team had worked their asses off for him to get, so the least he could do was fulfill their one request of getting pictured eating at a restaurant he hated.

“Fucking hell, traffic on the 405 was absolute shite, sorry I’m so fucking late,”

Louis grinned and shut his menu, meeting the eyes of his very mouthy dinner companion.

Niall Horan was in a sense, the Irish Ryan Seacrest, except with less jobs and several million less to his name. He hosted a popular morning radio show in the city and for some strange reason, had an even more popular Instagram page where he shared his passion for crocheting.

Yes, Hooking With Horan was a terrible name for an Instagram page, but he had almost two million followers, and Louis used to wear sequined go go shorts for a living, so he would never mock someone’s extracurricular activities.

The only other craft Louis knew was the art of making cocktails, which was how he befriended Niall. He had a short lived job at Rock & Reilly’s alongside him, before Louis moved the couple blocks down to the Abbey, which was much more shirtless than Irish.

Except on St Patrick’s Day of course.

“No prob, I just got here ten minutes ago myself,”

A waitress came by with a perfectly poured Guinness just as Niall was sliding into his seat, eliciting a bright smile from his slightly sunburnt face. “Wow, you pre ordered me a pint?”

Louis lifted his glass, tapping it to the lip of Niall’s. “Of course, I’m an excellent date.”

“Damn right you are, cheers mate.” He took a long sip, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth with a smack of his lips. “I could do with about five more of these.”

Louis laughed, sitting back against the cushy leather seat, cradling his own pint in his hand. “Did you Uber?”

He nodded, almost fully draining the remainder of his beer. “Yeah, it’s been an insane week at work, and I don’t have to be back in town til around ten tomorrow, we’ve got this live gig going on at the Grove. I thought I’d crash at yours tonight and take advantage of that sweet patio, if that’s cool?”

“Of course it is. I know it's been awhile since you've been out here, but I do happen to have five unused bedrooms for you to choose from,”

Niall snorted, shaking his head. “You celebs are so weird with your massive houses when you only ever use what, two rooms?"

Louis rolled his eyes, searching the room for their waitress, “I have a big family, I at least have a good excuse,” he finally spotted her head of blonde hair, signaling for two more beers with that dazzling movie star smile, which quickly turned into a confused one when he noticed Niall squirming excitedly in his seat. “What?”

He nodded his head towards the bar, leaning in closer with an eager whisper, “That’s Harry Styles!”

Louis performed his best subtle turn, landing his eyes at the bar where a head full of artfully disheveled curls sat in cuffed jeans and a cardigan he thinks his grandfather once owned. He seemed to be deeply invested in whatever book he was reading as he sipped on an iced tea, and if he had one more minute to focus he could have sworn he spotted bright pink nail polish.

He turned back to Niall’s star struck eyes, accepting another beer that had appeared right on time because it was very much needed. “So? Do you know him or something?”

Niall shook his head, downing half of his own beer again. Louis could tell he was in for a long night of Irish drinking. “Not really, I mean I know him from around the music scene because he’s been in a couple of local bands, but obviously I _know_ him. He’s the newest Hollywood darling," 

Louis refrained from rolling his eyes but couldn’t hold in the grimace his mouth formed. _Of course _he was also a musician. And yeah, he knew all too well who Harry Styles was, because he had been unable to escape his presence during festival season. Not him per-say, but the endless amount of people singing his praises, and when he finally spotted him in his black lace ensemble on the red carpet at Cannes and saw the movie everyone was raving about, he totally understood why. He just didn’t have to like it was all.

“Yes, I am aware Niall, thank you.”

Niall cackled, turning a few heads around them. Jesus. “Oooh, someone’s jealous. What are you worried he’s going to win an Oscar before you?”

Louis plucked an ice cube out of his water, flinging it at Niall’s head. “Careful Horan, you may end up sleeping on his couch tonight,”

Niall unsurprising caught the cube in his mouth, crunching on it with a grin, “I doubt he has a beachfront pad yet, I’ll stick with you.”

“What an honor.”

Niall let out another cackle before quickly quieting down and lowering his voice again. “You know I heard he’s dating Jake Gyllenhaal,”

Louis placed his glass down on the table much harder than he meant to, hissing under his breath, “What the fuck! Are you serious?”

Niall pat his hand sympathetically, “You need to calm down,”

“Don’t say that, Taylor ruined it.”

“Why, are you mad cause she dated him too?”

“That was fake as hell and you know it,” Louis took a deep breath, adjusting the shoulders of his t-shirt with annoyance. “And honestly, first he takes my fictional Oscar and now my fake boyfriend? Unbelievable.”

Niall shrugged, flipping open his menu, “You’ll probably still win one before Leo,”

“He did win, you knob.”

“Did he?”

Louis stared at him incredulously. “How are you in this industry?”

He thumbed over to the raw sushi page, pursing his lips as he decided on what to make Louis want to gag with while he enthusiastically ate it. “I’m not really.”

“You literally are and you watched it at my house, I was texting you the whole show! How do you not remember this?”

He lifted his beer up, tapping the side of the glass. “I’m high on Guinness and weed ninety percent of the time, that’s definitely not a memory saving combination.”

“You couldn’t have forgotten about Harry and Jake then,” he grumbled, annoyed at them sure, but also at himself for caring at all.

“You’re really more upset about that than the possibility of Harry winning an Oscar before you?”

“Yes.”

Truth be told, he wasn’t really _that_ annoyed, he could be happy for two gorgeous men dating each other while he drank wine alone on his patio listening to Drake be sad too, but on vinyl.

Right?

“Niall, let’s get drunk.”

...

Despite their best efforts, they ended up passed out by the fire pit on Louis’ patio around ten because they weren’t in their early twenties anymore. They had also consumed most of their alcohol at the restaurant, so they were already pretty toasty when they left, which the paps were more than happy to capture.

It was well known around town that he and Niall were just friends, aside from the hellions at TMZ trying on multiple occasions to declare them fuck buddies, which amused Niall to no end. Hence why he made a show of holding Louis’ hand and waving to the camera when they departed for their short walk down the beach to his house.

Niall had left earlier that morning to try and avoid some of the traffic, though most of it would be coming the opposite way so that everyone could get the perfect Instagram shots while they at brunched at Malibu Farm. Since Louis made good on his own photo opt promise the night before, he could spent the day lounging poolside at the obnoxiously overpriced private beach club that he belonged to.

It was totally pretentious and ridiculous, mostly filled with C list celebrities and their guests because you were allowed to bring two with you. But Louis didn’t have a pool at his place out this way and he wasn’t a fan of swimming in the ocean, so he could handle the hangers on for a couple of hours at least. 

They also made the best banana coconut daiquiri he has ever tasted in all of his years of living, and that alone was worth the coins he doled out to be surrounded by the cast of Riverdale. He pulled out a stool at the pool bar while he contemplated how it was possible for them to be there day in and day out, shouldn’t they be shooting soon? He shook his head as Archie canon balled into the pool, and placed his first (and definitely not last) order of the day.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, absently rubbing along the beard he had grown for his turn as a Bond villain. He smiled to himself, unable to believe that he was actually this cool. The enjoyment lasted only a second longer, because the back splash from the pool sprayed the back of his head, causing him to whip around on his seat to direct his ‘fuck off’ at any of the little shits causing the ruckus behind him.

He stopped mid spin, as there was another much more interesting distraction standing at the bar ordering a drink. There in the tiniest yellow shorts known to man, and perhaps the weirdest shirt known to man, was his newly appointed arch nemesis Harry Styles.

“Nice shirt,”

Harry turned his head from side to side to see if Louis had been talking to someone else and realized that no, it was all directed at him. He finally touched a hand to his tie dyed chest, looking down at the two unicorns adorned on his shirt, and back up at Louis with a cautious smile. “Uh, thank you?”

Now that he had him, Louis might as well get into it, so he could eventually ask the extremely nosy question that was eating him up inside. He extended his arm out, offering a handshake. “Louis Tomlinson. I don’t believe we’ve officially met,”

Harry sprang into action, wiping the sun screen residue off his hand along the side of his shorts before clasping Louis’ and shaking it with an earnest grin. “We haven’t, I’ve only seen you in passing at a couple of the film festivals this year. It’s great to finally meet you,”

“Likewise.” Louis leaned his elbow against the bar, clasping his hands together in order to keep himself from prodding the dimple that had made an appearance on Harry’s glowing face. “You were great in the movie by the way, I’ve heard there’s already Oscar buzz. So I suppose an early congrats is in order,”

Harry let out an airy laugh, “You don’t seem sure about that.”

Well excuse him. Though maybe this was why he was going to win an Oscar before Louis, because clearly he was the better actor. “The only thing I’m unsure of is why I have to see Archie with a shirt off every single day,”

That earned a honking laugh out of Harry, who quickly covered his mouth as his ears reddened. He flicked his eyes to the pool area, shrugging his shoulders up. “I really don’t see how that’s a complaint,”

Louis narrowed his eyes, assessing if he should casually drop the Jake bomb, since Harry kind of gave him an opening with the whole ogling shirtless guys situation. He went for it anyways, because unfortunately, his brain to mouth filter was usually broken. 

“So, I heard you were um, dating Jake Gyllenhaal. How’s that going?” As soon as he said it he really did wish he knew how to keep his mouth shut sometimes, but he didn’t, so he smiled big and bright while Harry’s face scrunched in confusion.

He scratched his index along the side of his nose, an awkward laugh stumbling out of him, “Uh not very well considering we’ve never met,”

Louis was going to kill Niall Horan, legitimately, and maybe someone could make a movie about it one day. Harry will probably star in it and go on to win another Oscar.

“Oh, my mistake, I’m sorry.” He tried to appear as nonchalant as he could about this embarrassing Irish trouble maker mix up. “I should know better than to believe the Hollywood rumor mill,”

Harry waved him off, “That’s okay.” He self consciously tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt, fiddling with one of the many rings on his fingers. The fact that he was wearing them in ninety degree weather was making Louis think he had to be slightly off his rocker. He inched a bit closer, lowering his voice. “And, no offence, but he’s really not my type.”

Louis’ hand fluttered to his heart, affronted. Yeah, he was definitely crazy. Very cute. But crazy. “Actually, I _am_ offended, he’s everybody’s type.”

Harry’s lips quirked up at the sides, as he leaned his body into Louis’ space. He wrapped his fingers around the glass that Louis had long forgotten about, bringing the straw up to his pink lips. Louis was about to scold him for that too when he darted his tongue out and sucked.

“Looks like they got our orders mixed up,”

He wiped a thumb along the side of his mouth, throwing up a peace sign as he turned away.

“Nice to meet you Louis.”

“Yeah, you too,” Louis said mostly to himself, because it was just him and the bartender left. He sighed and shook his head, reaching out for his own drink. He savored the burn of the rum as it warmed his insides, typing out a simple yet effective message to Niall.

\- I hate you

*

Harry slammed the front door and threw his keys on the antique table in the entry way before bolting his way down the hall to the kitchen, which is where he was sure to find his friends and to tell them about his exciting afternoon.

It wasn’t like Harry got that star struck anymore, he had been rubbing shoulders with some pretty big names for the last couple of months he had been on the festival circuit, but anyone who has known him since his long haired days of rocking out on the Sunset Strip knew that he had a massive and unreasonable crush on bearded, blue eyed, blockbuster star Louis Tomlinson.

Harry had never planned for a career in Hollywood, nor to even be famous at all. He had been pretty content playing music and entertaining the couple hundred loyal fans that showed up to see him perform at various venues around town, but after an especially rousing gig at the Viper Room a director approached him and asked if he had any interest in an upcoming independent film he was working on. Harry apparently had the vibe that they had been searching for and he thought sure, why the hell not and fast forward to a couple of months later where he was screaming internally as he locked eyes with Louis Tomlinson on a red carpet in the South of France, all while trying to remain cool and unaffected for the cameras.

And now to randomly bump into him at the beach club that had cost him an arm and a leg to join because he wanted to try Malibu on and see if he liked it? Well those membership fees just paid for themselves if it meant running into Louis more often than not. And not only that, he actually thought Harry was a good actor? Maybe he did need to move there permanently, it was already blessed with so much good fortune. 

He was currently crashing with his best mates Zayn and Liam, two of LA’s most in demand chef’s that Harry knew from back home when they were just two regular boyfriends working the counter together at Tesco’s. They had moved to LA shortly after he finished his music degree at UCLA and quickly made a name for themselves, opening up one of the hottest farm to table restaurants in Downtown LA, which they were now expanding to a second restaurant in Malibu, hence the rented house that Harry was currently squatting in. 

Because they could rarely be found anywhere else, there they were at the kitchen counter, sipping on wine and chopping up fresh produce for what would be another sinfully delicious dinner.

Harry skidded to a halt, placing his hands on the edge of the counter top with a dramatic pause, before launching into his thrilling news. “You guys will never believe what happened to me today,”

Zayn smirked at Liam, popping a slice of red pepper into his mouth. “Let me guess, you finally met Louis Tomlinson?”

Harry frowned, moving his hands to his hips in a huff. “What the fuck, do you guys have a live feed of the beach club or something?”

Liam laughed, passing him a glass of white wine. “No, but he was just on TMZ, so you know, process of elimination,”

“Why was he on TMZ?”

Zayn shrugged, accepting the zucchini Liam handed over for him to julienne. “Same old, same old, leaving a restaurant and holding hands with some blonde dude.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged as he sank onto one of the wooden chairs surrounding the marble island in the middle of the massive state of the art kitchen. “Really?”

Liam sighed in both of their general directions. “It wasn’t ‘some guy’, it was Niall Horan and he’s always with him. I assume that they’re best friends or something,”

Zayn smiled, leaning over to plant a kiss to Liam’s cheek, “People used to think that we were just best friends in school,”

Liam pushed his face away with a shake of his head. “I married you, that’s different.”

“How is it different? Are you saying we’re not best friends?”

“Babe, of course I’m not saying that, but—

Harry clapped his hands together, breaking up their married for too damn long squabble. “Hello? This conversation was supposed to be about me,”

They both simultaneously raised their eyebrows, and sometimes Harry really hated their beautiful, perfect faces. “Anyways, I did meet Louis, and for some reason he thought I was dating Jake Gyllenhaal?”

Zayn immediately threw back his head and laughed much louder than Harry would have liked. “As if.”

Harry’s face soured. “Liam, control your husband,”

Liam giggled, cocking his head at Harry. “Harry, do you really think that you and Jake are a believable couple,”

“I don’t think we’re not _not_ believable!”

Zayn scratched the back of his head in confusion as he stirred the pot of red sauce bubbling in front of him. “Wait a minute, do you want to date Jake now? I thought you wanted to date Louis?”

“No! And I do!”

“This is…very confusing,”

Liam rolled his eyes. “It’s really not babe,” he topped off Harry’s glass, giving him an encouraging nod of the head. “So did you ask him out?”

Honestly, how were they all this confused? “What? No, I barely talked to him, plus I kind of got the feeling he didn't like me very much,"

Zayn scoffed, offended on his behalf. “That’s outrageous, everyone likes you. And you’re adorable.”

Harry felt his heart warm. They may have bickered constantly, but it truly did come from a place of love. “Have you guys ever heard anything about him, you know, if he’s nice or?”

Liam tapped his fingers on the counter top, peering at Zayn thoughtfully. “We’ve catered a few events that he’s been at and he’s always been pleasantly charming. Other than that, you don’t really hear much about him aside from the mostly boring pap pics of him and his friends. He’s pretty low key for the level of fame he has,”

Harry heaved out a breathy sigh. “_And_ he’s fucking gorgeous.”

Zayn and Liam both leaned over to shake at his shoulders. “Then ask him out!”

Liam gave him one last squeeze, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “Seriously Harry, you’ve had a massive crush on him for years, now’s your chance. The worst he can say is no,”

Harry bit his lip as he contemplated the horrific outcome of a no. “That’s true, and if he does say no I can immediately move back home to save myself the embarrassment of not dating Louis Tomlinson _or_ Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“That a boy!”

Harry poured the rest of the wine into his glass, toasting it up in the air. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit. I have to go find an outfit that will give him an instant boner,”

Liam gave him his infamous unimpressed dad look, but Zayn was nothing but supportive dad, beaming proudly. “Show off those buns hun, you worked hard for them!”

Harry blushed and rolled his eyes, but later on when he pulled out his tightest jeans that he could barely get over his ass, he smirked and shrugged.

“If I can hardly get them on, they’ll be even easier for Louis to take off.”

Goals, to be honest.

*

Louis had planned to spend the previous night drinking one of his nicer bottles of red while filtering through some of the scripts that his agent had sent over complete with a tight deadline, but instead found himself in a very deep and very dark black hole of YouTube, clicking on video after video of Harry Styles writhing around on stage in skin tight leather pants and not much else.

Louis assumed that he had cut his hair for the movie, otherwise it was a crying shame that he would have gotten rid of the long, luscious curls that easily clung to his sweat drenched torso.

Yes, there was one video in particular that would be permanently be burnt into Louis’ brain.

The few minutes that he had spent with him had clearly had an affect on Louis, and after his hours of research he totally understood the Harry phenomenon. He was hot, apparently single, and a much better reason than the pool to hang out at a supposedly private club teaming with twenty something’s from the CW network.

And he would have gone back there today had it not been for the mandatory meeting at the movie studio to discuss the roll out for the James Bond press tour. It wasn’t starting until next March, but they needed to coordinate all of the actor’s schedules ahead of time so that they could work around any projects that they may be on during that time.

How dare the studio that paid him an exorbitant amount of money to star in his favorite franchise interrupt his lazy summer and make him drive into the city. Rude right?

He also briefly saw his publicist, who casually mentioned that she wouldn’t mind another set of photos at Nobu, minus Niall Horan, which was understandable, so they came up with a compromise – Louis would pick something up for dinner so they could get some shots of him arriving, and he could spend the evening on his couch watching the rest of the Harry footage he had been day dreaming about all throughout his meeting. 

Louis threw his Range Rover into park and hopped out of the truck, waving to the pap that was standing off to the side of the restaurant and flashed his smile for the camera. Once he completed that minimal task he jogged up the steps, pulling the door open to wave through a couple that barely registered who he was when they said thank you. Sometimes it was a blessing not to be recognized.

Especially when his jaw almost hit the floor, because there at the window lit up by the golden hues of the setting sunset was none other than Harry Styles and Jake Gyllenhaal.

“Mr. Tomlinson? Your order is ready,”

Louis snapped out of his trance, meeting the worried eyes of the hostess who had probably been trying to grab his attention for a solid two minutes.

“Uh, sorry, sorry. How much do I owe you again?”

“You already paid when you placed your order sir,”

Louis blanched, lunging forward to (hopefully) gently grab the bag from out of her hands. “Right, thanks love.”

He turned on his heel and hurried back to his truck, praying that he went unnoticed, and made the short drive to his house in a state of shock. He pulled into the driveway and went through the motions of opening his front door and placing his food on the kitchen counter, before stepping over to his couch and dramatically falling into it face first.

He slowly drew his face back up, where he found himself looking into Niall’s curious eyes, which of course were accompanied by a very amused grin. “You okay?”

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, tossing some popcorn into his open mouth. “I was bored and you have no other friends,”

Louis contemplated this momentarily. “True.”

“So what’s the problem, did your meeting not go well?”

Louis rolled over onto his back, sighing heavily at the ceiling. “Harry Styles is on a date at Nobu,”

“Why do you keep going there if you don’t even like the food?”

“With Jake,” he finished, on a slightly bitter note. Neither of his fantasy love interests were supposed to be dating, and now they had the audacity to actually be with each other? Life is unfair isn't it. 

Niall was silent for about a minute before breaking into a raucous fit of laughter. “Oh my god, did we will this into fruition?”

“Apparently.”

“Yeah, given your YouTube history I can see why you’d be annoyed,”

Louis bolted up to somehow defend himself when he realized that Niall had wandered over to the patio, hanging his arms over the railing and stuttering out another laugh seconds later. “Uh, Lou?”

“What now?”

“Harry and Jake are outside on the beach,”

He fell back against the couch again, flinging an arm over his eyes. “Ugh, if they fuck out there I’m calling the police.”

But then Niall’s cheery voice had him rising up like the dead once again. “Hey guys! Louis’ home if you wanna come up!”

“Niall! What the fuck are you doing?!”

He grinned and slipped his shoes back on, walking over to Louis to ruffle his hair, “I’m doing you a favor, trust me.”

“How is inviting two hot men who are on a date into my home going to help me in any way,”

“I have faith that you’ll figure it out. See ya!”

“And now you’re leaving?!” Louis wanted to throw something at his retreating figure, but he didn’t want to have to replace another phone. Or should he say that his assistant wouldn’t want to have to replace it. Whatever.

He braced himself for the worst when he turned back around and stood there on his patio was Harry looking stupidly gorgeous in a haphazardly buttoned Hawaiian shirt and jeans that looked like they might need to be cut off of him. He swallowed around the drool that was about to fall out of his mouth and waved. “Hey,”

Harry waved back, a sheepish smile quirked up on his lips. “Hi. I’m sorry to intrude on you like this,”

“No, no, you’re absolutely not. I just got home and I didn’t have any plans for the evening, come on in,” Louis quickly searched for any signs of JG while Harry bent down to unzip his boots. “So, what happened to Mr. Not Your Type?”

Harry stood back up to full height, titling his head to the side in thought when he finally clued in to what Louis was alluding to. “Oh, Jake! No, no, no, we were actually having a work dinner. As crazy as it sounds, I ran into him at the club and he asked if we could meet about a mini-series that he’s working on and I couldn’t even believe that he knew who I was, and I’m so sorry, I’m rambling,” he rubbed a socked toe along his ankle, worrying at his bottom lip. “I can go if this is like, weird, or—

Louis quickly waved out his hands, “It’s totally not, please stay. Can I get you a drink? Wine?”

Harry’s smile instantly softened as he nodded, “Sure.”

“You’re not driving right?” he called out as he went in search of clean glasses.

“No, I was going to Uber. I’m living about ten minutes away from here,”

Louis popped the cork on the wine he had pulled out of the fridge, doling them both out a generous pour. He handed a glass over to Harry in surprise, “Really? I would have pegged you as a West Hollywood guy,”

Harry took a delicate sip, nodding his approval. “Oh that’s good, and yeah I do have an apartment just off of Sunset, but I’ve been crashing with my friends, Zayn Malik and Liam Payne?”

Louis brightened at the familiar names. “I’ve been to their restaurant a couple of times, plus a few events that they’ve catered, god their food is phenomenal. How do you know them?”

“I’ll be sure to pass along the kind words.” Now that Harry had a little bit of wine in him, that smile and dimple came with more ease and Louis could feel his heart fluttering around inside his chest the deeper that dimple got. “And we grew up together, they moved over after I finished up at UCLA, and now here I am drinking wine with Louis Tomlinson in his kitchen,” he shook his head in quiet disbelief.

“Is that really so hard to believe?”

Harry’s chest was starting to flush as he brought the glass up to his lips again, “You’d be surprised.”

Louis leaned his forearms on the counter top, nodding at Harry to sit down on one of the bar stools. “It’s good that you have friends here, apparently I only have one and he ditched me again. Presumably for Shawn Mendes,”

Harry’s innocent smile turned into a cheeky smirk. “Hmm, kind of rude, but guess it depends. Is he going to be shirtless?”

“Oh, so _Shawn’s_ your type,”

Harry laughed. “He’s really not, but I do have eyes, Louis.”

Not wanting to spend the next half hour discussing how many abs Shawn has (he’s spent enough time doing it with Niall already) he diverted the topic back to Harry. That’s who he wanted to know more about. “How did you get into acting? Niall had mentioned that you were a musician before this movie,”

“It just kind of happened actually, the director was searching for a specific look and I guess I had it? And it's been complete chaos since we wrapped, so I don’t think I’ve had time to actually process everything. It’s totally different than music, but I think I like it, acting,” he drew his eyes over Louis’ face, curious. “What about you? I remember reading somewhere you started out in theatre?”

He nodded, grinning at the fond memories. “Yes, I was a _huge_ theatre geek, but I always dreamed of coming to Hollywood as a kid. As soon as I could move out here on my own I did, and after a couple of years of bit parts and bartending, I got my break, and the rest as they say is history. Kind of a boring origin story, but it’s been anything but ever since then.”

Harry grabbed the bottle out of the ice bucket Louis had put out, topping up their glasses and sitting back with a finger scratching through that very distracting dimple. “I thought you were such a bad ass for coming out the way you did,”

Oh god, this man. Did Louis love him already? Possibly. “Honestly, I had to. I was so bad at pretending to be straight. Obviously I can pull it off on screen, but I wanted my real life to actually be mine. I’m just lucky that it happened to work out in my favor.” Louis looked at him again, trying not to focus all his attention on his lips, but it was so damn hard. They were so pink, and he was so pretty. “Has it been okay for you so far?”

Harry nodded, twisting one of the rings on his fingers, which was even harder for Louis to pull his eyes away from than his lips. “Plus, no one’s really asked and I’ve never really had to say that I’m gay. I figure people just know,”

“You have an entire song that accurately describes sucking dick Harry, I think people are aware,” he teased with a wink.

His head dropped into his palm with a groan, “You watched my videos?”

“I did. You’re really good,” he tapped Harry on the top of his head, pleased with himself that he didn’t take it further and run his hand through his messy curls. Harry peered up at him warily. “You were also _really_ shirtless,”

“I_ really_ need to delete those off the internet.”

Louis shrugged a shoulder up, licking a runaway drop off wine off his lips. “I don’t know, personally I think you could give Shawn a run for his money,”

Harry snorted out a laugh, tipping up his glass. “Cheers, but I definitely could not. I love wine and ice cream way too much.”

Louis clinked his glass to Harry’s with a smile, “Me too.” He drained the rest of his wine and decided that if he had one more he was probably going to attempt to rip Harry’s shirt off. And since he would actually like to see him again, he did the right thing for once and decided to call it a night. “I’ve got a couple of scripts I need to read through before Monday, so I should probably start doing that seeing as that’s tomorrow, but you’re more than welcome to crash here tonight. I have plenty of room,”

He said the right thing, not the smart thing. But he was capable of being a gentlemen and locking himself in his room while Harry slept, most likely shirtless, down the hall from him.

Harry was hesitant at first, but seemed to agree after mulling it over. “Alright…but only if you’re sure you don’t mind,”

“Not at all, Niall stays here all the time. It’s kind of nice knowing someone’s in the house.” Then suddenly, an idea popped in his head. He padded over to the coffee table, digging through the pile of scripts until he came up with the one he had in mind. He walked back to where Harry was stood waiting, passing it over to him. “I’m considering taking this movie next, it actually sounds quite brilliant, and there’s a part in it that I think would be perfect for you. Would you be interested in reading it?”

Harry nodded eagerly, flipping through the typed pages. “That’s so cool, thank you!”

Louis was beaming on the inside, because he was really trying to come off as chill as possible on the outside. He didn’t need Harry to know he was slightly head over heels. “You’re welcome, and seriously just pick any room, they’re all fully stocked with anything you need – water, pajamas, toothbrushes, we’ve got it all here at Casa Tommo." He pointed to one of the framed pictures on his mantle. "Growing up with sisters is like going to war, you must always be prepared,”

He chuckled in return. “Yeah I have one too, she’s militant about spare toothbrushes.” The side of his lips quirked up as he thumbed behind him to the hallway that lead to the bedroom, “I think I’ll head in, but seriously, thank you for everything, the talk and letting me stay. It’s been a strange day, but the end was just what I needed.”

Louis’ insides squirmed as he felt his chest heat up. “You’re welcome. Thanks for coming up and not thinking I’m a complete weirdo,”

“I’m pretty sure that would be impossible.”

“Oh! And if you have to leave early no worries, just slip out the front, the door automatically locks. I think that’s it. That I can remember anyways,”

“Got it,” Harry smiled again, and Louis was certain it could melt someone’s heart if he tried hard enough. “Night Louis,"

“Night.”

Louis picked up his pile of scripts and marched down the hallway towards his own room and quietly shut the door, leaning against the back of it as he let out the shaky breath he had been holding inside. There was an incredibly gorgeous man on the opposite side of his house who enthusiastically sang songs about blow jobs and loving the taste of dick, and Louis was here alone in his room not doing anything about it.

He frowned at himself, and down at the crotch of his shorts. “Don’t you start, we’re being gentlemen tonight.”

But he couldn’t help but wonder if Harry was having the same problem too.

*

Harry slid his key into the door, slowly opening it so the creak that gave people’s coming and goings away wouldn’t announce his early morning arrival. He eased his body through the small opening that he allowed himself and almost had a heart attack when he nearly crashed into a slightly sleep deprived Liam. The second thing he noticed after the dark circles under his friend’s eyes was the thumping base coming from the living room.

Liam held up a finger, turning his head to his side to yell towards the noise. “Babe, can you _please_ turn that down, I’ve asked you three times now!”

Harry raised his eyebrows questioningly. “What’s that all about?”

Liam scratched his fingers through his beard, stifling a deep yawn. “He’s been super stressed about the opening, so his reiki teacher suggested that he take up yoga. Which he does, but it’s accompanied by decibel blowing levels of Bruno Mars for some god forsaken reason,” he shook his head at another loud blast of bass. “It’s been over a month of this. I swear I am this close to divorcing him,”

“I heard that!”

“Good!” Liam rolled his eyes, a fond look finally washing over his face. “In all seriousness, I’m glad that he found an outlet for his stress that he actually enjoys. It’s good for him.” Liam looked Harry up and down, assessing his outfit with a cocked eyebrow. “Where have you been?”

Harry shook his head, indicating for Liam to follow him down the hallway to the kitchen. He needed coffee for this. He briefly paused at the island, spinning around to lean against it. He had already changed his mind because he actually couldn’t hold it in anymore, a French drip could wait. 

“Okay, you’re never going to believe what happened to me last night,”

“If you keep coming in here saying that, one of these days we really won’t” Liam offered.

“No, seriously Liam, this is nuts. So I was at the beach club in the afternoon hoping to run into Louis, but guess who was there instead?”

Liam stared at him in anticipation after Harry made him wait it out for a good sixty seconds, “Well?!”

“Jake Gyllenhaal, and long story short because there is so much more to this story, he asked me to dinner!”

And just like that the music went silent, followed by Zayn sliding into the kitchen, excitedly clapping his hands. “Ooh we’re gossiping? Hold on one sec,” he turned to tug open the fridge, rummaging through it and plucking out a bottle of wine. “I need a drink for this.”

“It’s 8 am babe,”

He put the rosé back, instead pulling out a sparkling white and a carafe of OJ with determination. “I’ll make a mimosa then, because this is necessary.”

Liam shook his head at him, urging Harry to keep going. “And?”

Harry sat down, happily accepting the morning appropriate alcohol Zayn passed over to him. “Right, well it turns out Jake loved my work and wanted to discuss a part with me, so I ran home and changed into my boner outfit because I wasn’t taking any more chances with fate, and we were halfway through the most insane spicy tuna roll I’ve ever had, seriously it was like biting into a stick of butter—

Zayn groaned, clutching at his chest. “Harry for god’s sake, please tell me you have not eaten a stick of butter,”

Harry wasn’t in a court of law, he didn’t have to divulge all his secrets. “No, _Zayn,_ I’m not an animal, and besides that, THAT was when Louis walked in the door and I lost all train of thought, because how!”

Since Liam and Zayn were simply staring at him wide eyed at this point, he continued on his rabid tangent. “And Jake was just sitting there watching me stare at Louis and his ass like an idiot, honest to god you should see it in sweats it is unfuckingreal, and when I finally brought my attention back he’s laughing at me saying ‘so you’re into Louis Tomlinson’ and then casually mentions he owns a house in the area and gets right back to business but then! After dinner he suggests we go for a walk on the beach and I’m thinking wtf Jake, I literally just made you aware of my Louis thirst what are you doing and what he was doing fellows, was bringing me to the steps of a one Louis Tomlinson’s beach house!”

“I—

Liam couldn’t even find the rest of the words for what he was going to say and Harry couldn’t blame him one bit. “I get what you’re saying Liam and I know, because it’s get better, not only were we at Louis’ house but Niall bloody Horan was on the patio waving us up like we’re long lost pals! Then all of a sudden Jake is pushing me up there telling me he’ll be in touch and disappears into the night like some sort of handsome adult Cupid, plus Niall was also gone when I got up there and it’s literally just me and Louis staring at each other awkwardly,” Harry took a sip of his drink and let out one long, calming breath. “And that’s how I ended up staying over at Louis Tomlinson’s house.”

Zayn took his next drink straight out of the bottle, rubbing at his temples after. “I don’t understand how this is your life,”

“You don’t understand? Imagine how I feel!”

Liam’s eyes looked like they were about to fall right out of his head as he finally fixed himself a drink. “Harry Styles, you slept with him on the first date?”

Harry flicked Liam in the shoulder, holding his glass out for a refill. “Excuse me, Louis Tomlinson is a perfect gentleman, it was late and he offered me a room to crash in.”

“You don’t have to keep saying his full name, we’ve known for the last six years that when you’re talking about a Louis, it can only be him.”

“I’m allowed to say the full name of my future husband, Zayn,”

He smiled softly, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “That good hey?”

Harry lifted a hand to wave him off, “It wasn’t like that, we seriously just talked and...” he trailed off, frowning at his naked hand. “Ah bloody hell, I forgot my rings there,”

Zayn and Liam shot each other a look before bursting into laughter. “Uh huh, sure you did.”

Harry pouted, rubbing his empty hands together. “I diiiid, I must have left them on the nightstand,”

Zayn marched around the island to push him out of his chair, “Alright, so go take a quick shower and get that cute little booty back over there for a breakfast date. We’ll even give you that very expensive unopened bottle of maple syrup to take over. Trust us, cooking is orgasm material.”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “Ew.” Liam and Zayn were like his second dads, he did not need to think about them having sex after breakfast.

Liam wagged a finger at him. “Be nice,” he then grasped him by the shoulders, steeling him with a look of encouragement. “Harry, we’ve been listening to you whine about Louis’ dick for ages, so please just go and get it for you and for us.”

“I thought you told me to go have a breakfast date?”

Liam winked at Zayn over his shoulder as he pat his cheek. “Yes, but who doesn’t like their pancakes with a side of cock?”

Harry blanched, backing away to make a break for the bathroom, “I’m definitely going back now, I cannot hear any more sex talk out of either of you,”

“We just love you!”

Harry leaned his forehead against the closed door and smiled at the ground at the sound of their muffled laughter.

“A breakfast date it is.”

...

He realized when he got back to Louis’ that the front door would be locked, so he wandered around back to see if he had the patio door open.

Obviously he could have knocked, but the patio was kind of his safety zone now that he’d already been invited in once. Why he was using vampire tactics was beyond him, but he shook it off as he slid the screen door open and tip toed into the living room.

“Louis?”

He wandered towards the kitchen and came face to face with a wide eyed, messy hair, sleep crumpled, delicious and slightly guilty looking Louis. “Harry, you’re back…is everything okay?”

Harry drew his eyes down his wrinkled t-shirt and shorts, landing on the flashing rings that were fixed on his middle and index fingers, raising his eyebrows to the roof. “Are you wearing my rings?”

Louis stared down at them, chewing on his bottom lip. “I, uh, well,” he glanced back up at Harry, leaning his weight onto his left foot, popping his hip to the side. He propped his ringless hand against it and waved his other out in front of him in defeat. “Do you really want to know?”

Harry shook his head yes, but he was still kind of confused. “Okay,” he drew out cautiously.

Louis closed his eyes and shook his head at the ceiling, before meeting Harry’s once again. “Alright, to be perfectly honest Harry, I was thinking about what it would be like to finger you with them on,”

Harry tightened his grip on the paper bag that held the maple syrup bottle in his sweating hands. Holy. Shit. “Oh…I brought real maple syrup. For breakfast.”

Louis finally gave him a genuine smile, stepping a foot closer to him. “That’s so sweet Harry. Did you want to make some pancakes then?”

Harry nodded, but his eyes were laser focused on his rings. “Yeah, but—

Louis squint his eyes, assessing Harry's features. “Or did you want to do the other thing? My kitchen tables quite sturdy, you could lie on top of it or bend over it. You know. Whatever you like,”

Harry felt a hysterical laugh bubble up out of his lips. “I’ve only been fantasizing about this for years and now I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry,”

Louis stepped into his space and wrapped his fingers around Harry’s wrist, causing him to gasp when he felt the metal of his ring against his pulse. “Well I’ve only been thinking about it for the last couple hours and I’ve already jerked off twice, so really I’m just distracting you so I can regain some stamina now that I have you.”

Harry shuffled back and forth on his feet, feeling slightly embarrassed by his admission now. “You didn’t find me attractive before?”

Louis’ eyes softened, as he reached up to slide his thumb through the ghost of his dimple. “Of course I did, you’re fucking beautiful, but I didn’t really know you. You were just the guy who was going take the Oscar I haven’t even been nominated for yet. Now you’re the guy I desperately want to fuck in my kitchen and feed pancakes to. So, how does that sound to you?”

Harry laughed, feeling the flush creep on his cheeks again. He was actually going to have sex with Louis Tomlinson. He could probably die a happy man now. “I mean, it doesn’t sound bad,”

Louis leaned up on his toes, touching his lips to the side of Harry’s mouth as he took the bag he was grasping in his hand and carefully threw it over to one of the massive chairs in the room, sliding his free hand between Harry’s legs. “I’ve been dreaming about seeing these thighs all marked up, scratching my beard in between them as I slowly fuck my fingers into you. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like you should have had a career in porn and trust me, I’m not complaining,”

Louis moved one of Harry’s hands down towards his ass, squeezing both their palms into it. “I’ve seen my ass. I know it baby.”

Harry surged forward, finally tasting Louis and it was everything he had been fantasizing about and more. He tasted like long summer days, his body moved like the most beautiful abstract painting and he just picked Harry up like he was lighter than a damn feather. Alright, so Louis being deceivingly strong was probably the hottest thing ever? “Jesus Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard,”

“Like being manhandled, do we?”

“That, and your super human strength, what the fuck,” he gasped out as Louis sat him down on his table that probably cost more than Harry’s car.

Louis licked a strip up the side of his neck, stopping to nibble at his ear. “I just wrapped a Bond film, and I was pleasantly surprised to find out I quite liked working out when I got to be a villain in my favorite franchise,”

Harry moaned low in his throat. God he was so hot.

He finally stilled, gently placing his hands on Harry’s thighs, and searched his eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? We can just have breakfast you know, we have plenty of time to do other things,”

He really wanted Harry dead hey? Hot and respectful of boundaries? Yeah, he needed to marry this man. He picked up Louis’ hands, kissing the tops of his knuckles. “I appreciate you asking, but yes, I would love to fuck you, and also have breakfast. If that’s what you want too of course.”

Louis pushed him back against the table and slid the zipper of jeans down with a naughty smirk.

“Who doesn’t like pancakes with a side of cock?”

Harry didn’t think he’d ever hear that twice in one day, but he was definitely looking forward to what the rest of the summer would bring now.

*

“Harold, are you almost ready?”

“Yes honey, I’ll be right there!”

So here’s the thing.

Louis Tomlinson was madly in love with Harry Styles, and they were on their way to the Oscars together to most likely collect Harry’s very well deserved award. He had already won the Golden Globe and SAG award for best supporting actor, so Louis was certain that he had it in the bag.

After their whirlwind summer romance where they kissed, held hands and were generally sickening all over the globe (Harry had never been to Italy, Louis took him there immediately), they headed into the fall as Hollywood’s newest and hottest power couple, which secretly sent a thrill up Louis’ spine every time he passed a gossip rag with it emblazoned on the cover.

It just so happened that both of their upcoming projects were shooting in LA, another thing that Louis had been secretly thrilled about because he wasn’t quite ready to be away from Harry. He didn’t even like it when he spent the night at Zayn and Liam’s instead of their place, and when Harry raised his eyebrows and laughed, ‘our place?’ then Louis knew the only logical next step was for them to move in together.

They decided to make Malibu their permanent home base; Harry had gotten used to the slower paced lifestyle and embraced his freshly discovered inner hippy by growing out his hair again and throwing up a peace sign in every picture they took despite Louis teasing him mercilessly for it. The peace signs that is, never the hair, because there weren’t many things more relaxing than settling in with a glass of wine and playing with Harry’s curls while they watched the Housewives of Beverly Hills scream at each other in Zayn and Liam’s restaurant.

The two of them of course loved the shameless promo, as well as the promo that Harry and Louis were bringing to their newly opened Malibu restaurant, which naturally garnered rave reviews. Louis was super thankful that he didn’t have to be around sushi anymore, and that he had made two new friends who spoiled them with elaborate meals at their house once a month. Zayn and Liam also provided plenty of embarrassing stories for him to hold over Harry’s head should he ever leave him for Jake Gyllenhaal, and Harry had to remind him for the hundredth time that it was strictly a business dinner, and wasn’t Louis the one who lusting after Jake and irrationally irritated at Harry for dating him when he absolutely was not?

Yeah, so Louis didn’t really have a leg to stand on, which is why during the holidays he allowed his sisters to regal Harry with his own childhood antidotes, complete with a video screening of him playing the title role in his high school production of Grease. Louis also bought them a sex swing for Christmas, which they broke on New Year’s Eve, so not only did they go into the New Year with a bang, literally and figuratively, there was also one bruised ass and a broken pinky finger.

What can he say, they had a very active sex life, which Harry loved to sing about when he performed from time to time. Louis’ publicist wasn’t as thrilled about that as he was, but her annoyance was short lived after they made headlines once again when they were cast in an upcoming Christopher Nolan movie together.

So far, this was turning out to be Louis’ best year yet. He was going to be starting promo for the Bond film next month _and_ shooting a film with the love of his life, who he turned to face as he came down the hallway with a grin.

“So, how do I look?” He spun around in a circle with his hands out, showing off his slim cut green velvet suit.

Louis closed the distance between them, smoothing his hand up the lapels of Harry’s jacket, straightening the diamond encrusted flower brooch pinned near the top. “Like you’re about to win an Oscar,”

Harry bit down on his lip, his cheeks flushing as he brought a hand up to squeeze Louis’ waist. “Well even if I don’t, at least we look hot in our matching suits.”

Louis laughed, blushing himself now. Yes, they were those disgusting people that coordinated their clothes for special events. And sometimes date nights. And wore each other’s clothes out and about. It was a bit of a problem, but a good one, one that Louis wanted to have for the rest of the years he had to spend on this planet.

He blew out a breath, slipping a hand into his pocket, feeling the cool metal at the very bottom and reached for Harry with his other. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that I am so fucking proud of you and I have at least ten sappy tweets sitting in my drafts ready to go either way,”

Harry cooed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Aww honey, you resurrected your twitter for me?”

“As if I’d pass up the chance to use the #Hoscar hashtag,” Harry rolled his eyes, but his dimple gave away his happiness level as always. Louis intended to keep it there permanently. “There’s one other thing I wanted to do before we go,” his fingers trembled as he pulled the ring out of his pocket and slowly bent down on one knee, heart beating as fast as Harry’s eyes were growing.

“Lou…what are you doing?”

“I do believe I’m about to ask you to marry me,”

Harry’s eyes instantly glossed over as he brought a hand up to his mouth, “Are you seriously going to make me cry before we go to the Oscars?”

Louis pulled the ring back, eyebrows raised in question. “Is that a no?”

“No!” Harry pulled him up to his feet and wrapped him in a crushing hug as he pressed a flurry of kisses to the side of Louis’ head. “Of course I want to marry you, you idiot, I can’t believe you want to marry me!"

Louis eased out of the hug, finally placing the ring on Harry’s finger and wiping away a tear of his own as he parroted back, “Of course I want to marry you, you idiot.” He shook his head, staring down at the gold Tiffany band that already looked so at home nestled in between Harry’s ornate collection of rings. “This really isn’t the romantic proposal I envisioned,”

Harry kissed him again, mumbling against his lips, “It’s perfect, the ring is perfect, you’re perfect.” He cupped Louis’ cheek after, that dimple still intact just like he wanted. “I love you so much,”

“I love you too baby.” Louis hung his arm out for Harry to loop his own through, nodding towards the door.

“Let’s go get your Oscar.”

…

“And the winner for best supporting actor goes to Harry Styles!”

Louis jumped up out of his seat, tugging Harry along with him and possibly gave him the longest kiss in Oscar history before pushing him towards the stage, his heart soaring with pride.

Harry stumbled his way up the steps to accept his award, his eyes immediately searching for Louis’ as a source of comfort before he started his speech. He brought a hand to his head, shaking it in disbelief.

“I truly cannot believe that this is happening, thank you so much to the Academy for this honor and to my fellow nominees for giving such outstanding performances themselves, I share this with you all because I don’t know that I deserve it. And to everyone that worked on this incredible film, you’re amazing, this has been the most surreal experience of my life.” He held up his left hand, wiggling his fingers out in front of him. “I also got engaged today, so needless to say, I don’t think it gets much better than this.”

The crowd around Louis buzzed with excitement, the murmurs of congratulations and loud whistles sounding out in his ears, but all he could hear was Harry.

“Louis, you and I both know that I’ve been in love with you for a large part of my adult life, with you only recently actively participating,”

Louis barked out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand as his cheeks turned a similar shade to the carpet they had just walked hand in hand.

“Thank you for being my biggest fan and giving me a reason to write hundreds of love songs that will never see the light of day because even I’m mortified when I read them back. I love you and I can’t wait to see where life takes us.”

Harry clasped his hands together and bowed to the crowd and started to walk off the stage when he doubled back to the mic, a wild grin spread on his cheeks. “Oh, and you thank you to Soho House in Malibu and Jake Gyllenhaal. He knows why. Bye!”

…

The Vanity Fair Oscar party was in full swing by the time they finally made it to the venue, and Louis had lost Harry for an hour before he finally snatched him back, whisking him off to a dark corner to finally have a private moment with him.

He kissed him first, stroking away the curls that had fallen into his eyes, “I don’t know if I told you earlier, but that was an amazing speech. I’m especially interested in the hundreds of love songs, seems a bit excessive, no?”

“Not when it’s you,” Harry leaned his forehead against Louis’ own, linking their handing together between them. “If I wrote you a song, would you sing it?”

“Absolutely not.”

That was a lie though, Louis would sing him a thousand songs if he wanted him to, but he had to keep something in his back pocket to top the vows that Harry would prepare for their wedding after his heartfelt Oscars speech.

Louis squeezed his hand. “I fucking love you,”

Harry laughed, squeezing him back. “I fucking love you too.” He linked their fingers together, bumping their hips as he drew them out of the shadows. “Let’s go mingle, I want to show off my ring.”

“I feel like you’re more excited about that than your Oscar,”

He shrugged a shoulder up, “Yeah an Oscar is cool, but a future with Louis Tomlinson? That’s priceless.”

Louis snorted, pinching his fingers into Harry’s side. “You’re such a dork."

Harry slapped his hand away with a giggle, leaning into him to whisper at his ear. “Maybe, but you fucking love me.”

Yeah.

He fucking did.

The End

"But if I wrote you a love song, would you sing it?  
If I needed bail out of jail, would you bring it?  
If I win, then we're up, if we fail, then we wing it 

I guess what I'm sayin', I guess what I'm sayin'  
I guess what I'm sayin' is, I  
I fuckin' love you (I do)"


End file.
